The Baggage Called Past

Everyone has a past. For some, theirs become baggage that must remain sealed. For others, it is an open book that can be glanced at once in a while with a nostalgic smile for events long past.

When I look back into my past sometimes I smile and shake my head in disbelief at the incidents I recall. At other times I just want to dig it up, take it to china, bury it and forget it ever happened. We all have something in our past that we want to forget or pretend never happened; if you don’t have one of such experiences, count yourself lucky and I just have to ask ‘What planet are you from?’.

Dealing with the past has never been an easy thing and if you are like me, sometimes you make that one event/occurrence your permanent residence. Trust me, I know the feeling. Living in the past is easy cos you can right the wrongs, edit conversations and live happily ever after in there but again that’s not a healthy alternative. The longer you stay there, the harder it will become for you to rejoin the rest of the unhappy humans.

So this is my fun list for dealing and overcoming whatever baggage is going to become your past.

Cry
No matter what anyone says, crying is good for you just don’t overdo it. Have a good self pitying and cleansing cry to get the bitterness and hurt out of your system.

Eat
Feed the anger. You are permitted just this once to binge eat on ice cream and any other junk food. Comfort food is good for a grieving heart.

Cleanse
Ok, the pity party is over, so cleanse yourself of every item that can trigger a negative emotional response. Burn, trash and discard everything. Forget nostalgia and move on. Make it fun; call your best friends in to help with the cleansing process.

Sanity
Think positive thoughts and get out of your head. Dying is not worth it and if it was a dude responsible for the pain, the asshole isn’t worth it either. You’re precious and beautiful and good things lie ahead for you.

Jokes aside, your past is a part of who you are and the decisions you take in trying to deal with incidents in that universe in your head will go a long way in shaping your future. Its not healthy to deport these incidents to Somali cos they have a way of sneaking back into your country when you least expect.

The healthy option is to Forgive and Forget.

Forgetting is part of forgiveness and it means letting go of the incident et al from your heart and your head. You’ll be the better and healthier for it. really, that’s some heavy load to be dragging around for the rest of your life.

Forgive yourself first and foremost because we spend most of our lives blaming ourselves for our roles in creating the situations that have led to these hurtful pasts. Without forgiving yourself, forgiving the situation or the offenders will be most difficult.

In your forgiveness however, be smart enough not to trust them suckers again. ©

Diary Of A Twisted Mind

Ever since I was little I always said I never wanted to get married. Maybe it was all the sob movies I saw growing up, my parents marriage or the politics behind Princess Diana's wedding, all I know is I continually professed I was going to be a Nun.

Being a Nun in my eyes meant abstinence from all the worldly temptations of sex and being safe from the heartaches and drama associated with love and marriage.

I remember being beaten and slapped by my then single senior aunt and sometimes my mother every time they were within ear shot of my utterance. It was never a palatable experience. The slaps became harder as I grew up. I never understood the fuss anyway, it was my life and my decision to make whether I was cut out for marriage but apparently they thought otherwise. How could a young girl declare boldly, she wasn't going to be married? And she was going to become a Nun? It made my mother cry frequently. Marriage was and still is a thing of pride here in Nigeria. If you aren't married from a certain age, then something is 'wrong' with you.

As I grew up, I looked for a reason to change my mind about the entire concept of marriage because I saw it as a sham. An excuse for people to have sex legally and procreate - what's the fuss about that? People go their entire lives without it. And besides, I had older sisters and brothers, if grand children were the issue they had it covered. There were no good examples for me to see and want to aspire to. All the married couples I knew were miserable, particularly the women. The men were philandering husbands who did whatever they liked outside their matrimonial homes but came home and pretended like saints. Some wives knew and pretended not to know, while others embraced the adage of 'What's good for the goose is good for the gander' and carried out their own affairs.

Seriously! That's what they wanted me to become? An angry, discontent, troubled and depressed woman for the rest of my life? Just because my parents wanted to experience the joys of throwing a party so their friends could see that they too had a married child and the grandchildren would soon flow. Well they have another think coming.

Marriage is not for everyone. And I had established it within myself that it wasn't for me.

Feed Me Jor

I love food.
Always have and always will.

Every time I come across a well cooked meal I just want to stop and have myself a taste. I won’t call myself a food connoisseur but I can appreciate a well prepared meal. My mother used to say that growing up I never joked around when it concerned food. Being around the kitchen was never a forced chore as I enjoyed spending long hours in the kitchen. The smells still are comforting and I sometimes feel the hairs on my hand stand up straight when I’m around good food.

Just a week ago I had the great fortune to sample a range of soups over the space of a week from visiting some of my senior aunties and brought great joy to the soul of my belle and nose. The rich aroma from the rich egusi soup tantalized my senses and tastes buds so much that I was full just from standing close the pot. I was mesmerized by the dance of total abandon performed by the stock fish, kpomo and beef in the pot. They beckoned to me and it was all I could do to resist the urge to reach into the pot and retrieve a dancer.

Egusi soup with freshly pounded yam (hot), the combo melted easily in my mouth. This was food heaven.

My next experience was with the Calabar soup edikakong. Vegetable soups are my absolute favorite cos it supports my weight loss attempt (that is another story). For those not familiar with this soup, it is a combination of ugwu and water leaves. Striking the right blend and balance is always the tricky part. Not many people are blessed with the gift of preparing this delicacy though. I have tried some concussions that were labeled edikakong and they were totally appalling and inedible. I recall the one that looked like a pot of weed swimming in colored water (Yuk).

I tried the edikakong made in Cassia restaurant in Lagos and boy was I blown away. For a lack of a better description, it was like an orgasm in the mouth. I never knew food could taste and make you feel that good. It had a rich heady taste that spoke to every taste bud in my mouth. Wow. When I looked up from my plate, my colleagues were staring as I had abandoned my fine girl act and was using my hands and licking my fingers (See public falling of hand).

Don’t get me started on their plantain porridge which I went back to try after seeing it ordered by a friend - OMG. Ripe plantain, tiny pieces of fish infused into vegetable (ugwu). I kept asking which was the main meal, was it the plantain, the fish or the vegetable cos everything blended into one amazing meal.

I am told that my continuous love for food, especially those made with palm oil and starch, is working against my present attempt to lose weight but hey, nothing can separate me from my love of food. Until they find a slim fast made of garri, yam, fish, kpomo, palm oil, beef and periwinkle I will stick to my naija meal and find an alternative to losing the weight.